


Stardust

by Eggling



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: M/M, and the two/jamie stuff is mostly implied really, mentions of Ben and Polly but just to place it in series 4, there's a couple of eu references but it all makes sense if you're not familiar with the eu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggling/pseuds/Eggling
Summary: The Doctor, Jamie, an isolated cottage, and a tartan blanket.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for [keatulie](http://keatulie.tumblr.com/).

_“Kidnap Professor Zaroff!”_

_The Doctor’s announcement – a little too grand and overconfident for Jamie’s liking, if he considered it – faded away into the damp atmosphere of the chamber, greeted only by silence until Polly piped up._

_“How are we going to do that?”_

_“Well, that girl, Ara, brought us clothes, did she not?” the Doctor replied enthusiastically. “We disguise ourselves, lay a trap for Zaroff, then lead him back here.”_

_“Any excuse to dress up,” Ben muttered bitterly. “Then what?”_

_“Well, I haven’t got that far yet,” the Doctor said. “But it’s a start. You and Jamie can disguise yourselves as guards, and Polly as a servant girl, like Ara.”_

_“What about you?”_

_“Oh, I’ll think of something,” the Doctor replied. “On you go! There isn’t much time.”_

* * *

“Aye, but I still dinnae understand where ye got the blanket, Doctor,” Jamie interrupted.

The rough stone wall was icy cold, the masonry digging into his back, and the threadbare sheets on the bed itchy, but he was content. Upon spotting a bed, the Doctor had dug in his voluminous pockets, depositing an assortment of odds and ends into Jamie’s hands as he did so - “Oh! That last chess piece! I did wonder where that had gone, I do like that set” - before producing a large tartan blanket. The moment he had pulled it out had been absurd, a seemingly endless stretch of material emerging from his pocket, but having brushed it off and shaken out a few sweet wrappers and loose buttons, the Doctor had declared that it would do quite nicely.

And so Jamie found himself sitting with his back to the wall, squashed between the bed’s headboard and the Doctor, huddling under the blanket for warmth. Their breath billowed out in white clouds as they talked, as if from a steam engine. The Doctor had described them to Jamie once, huge, fiery beasties that would one day cross the length and breadth of Scotland. He wondered, briefly, exactly when they had landed, and what state his homeland was in. Perhaps it was covered in spaceships now, or perhaps the Earth itself was long since gone.

“Well, I thought I’d better keep all your clothe when you disguised yourselves,’ the Doctor continued, wresting him from his thoughts. “But then we had that dreadful business with the Cybermen on the moon, and – well, none of you asked for them back. So I put them in the wardrobe, just in case.”

“And then?”

“Well, I stumbled across the cabinet I’d left them in, one day, and -”

“And decided to turn my plaid into a blanket,” Jamie finished. He plucked at the wool absent-mindedly. “How long have ye been carrying this around for?”

“Oh… a while,” the Doctor said evasively, sounding rather flustered. Jamie grinned at his sudden embarrassment.

“Well, lucky for us that ye did, else we’d be frozen tae death.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Jamie.” The Doctor smiled, batting gently at his shoulder in reassurance. “It’s nowhere near cold enough for us to die of hypothermia, or frostbite, or anything like that. Although -” he glanced nervously towards the door “- if Ben and Polly don’t hurry up, I think we may be more grateful for the blanket. The days are shorter here, and it’s practically nightfall already.”

Tucked away in an isolated cottage, halfway up a mountain, the Doctor a comforting presence against his side, Jamie had almost forgotten about their present predicament. He had forgotten that they stood besieged by alien invaders, tat they had been separated from Ben, Polly, and the planet’s inhabitants by an attack on their camp, that they were now half snowed into their temporary refuge. He had been so distracted by the Doctor’s reminiscence that the danger they were in had seemed a fairy story.

“Ye dinnae happen to have any food in those ridiculous pockets of yours, do ye?” he asked, the once-comfortable silence suddenly tense. “I’m fair famished.”

“An apple, I think,” the Doctor replied. “But it’s been in there since – oh, let’s see. At least since 1648, I think.” He turned to Jamie at that, smiling again – not the mischievous smile he threw at the world to turn it away, but something smaller, more intimate. Jamie was sure that he could count on one hand the number of times he had seen the Doctor smile like that. Something warm sparked inside of him at that thought, at the idea that the Doctor would turn towards him the same gaze with which he regarded stars and sunrises and butterflies. Like he was something special, even something wondrous. Unable to meet the Doctor’s eyes for much longer, he leant over to rest his head on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“I’m glad I’m not stuck here on my own, ye know,” he murmured.

“I know,” the Doctor assured him. “I’m glad I’m not alone either.” He turned to kiss the top of Jamie’s head, and Jamie knew he was smiling. Tentatively, almost nervously, the Doctor’s arm slipped around his waist and pulled him closer, and he sighed happily, puling the blanket tighter around them. Darkness seeped in under the door, but neither of them noticed.

Together, they sat in silence as the stars lit up above.


End file.
